


Clemency

by CleverCatchphrase



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone lives AND dies!, Gen, Slow heal?, slow burn but it's for healing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CleverCatchphrase/pseuds/CleverCatchphrase
Summary: "All humans who fall down here must die," declared Asgore. And one by one, they do. Just... not in the way anyone expected.
Relationships: Asgore Dreemurr & the fallen humans
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Clemency

**Author's Note:**

> This was my 2020 NaNowriMo project, and It's going to be over 80k words, if not close to 100k. (Idk yet, I haven't finished)
> 
> Hope your ready for sad daddy goats coping with ~*trauma*~!

_Dear future humans,_

_I hope you find this letter. Well, if you’re reading this, then I guess you did. Good job! If you didn’t find it, then… Well, I’m kind of just talking to myself, huh? Anyway, I’m going to assume you found this letter and are, in fact, reading it right now. I’m writing this to you because I will most likely be dead soon._

_My name is not important, nor is my story, or how I came to find myself here in the kingdom of monsters. (Let’s face it, if you ARE reading this, you know how I got here because you probably came here the same way, and if you found this letter, that means you’re in New Home and you’re probably trying to leave like I was.)_

_Anyway, if you haven’t found out by now, you may have noticed something… strange when you lose a fight with a monster. I discovered it myself way back in the Ruins (I’m not very nimble) I can only hope this is a power that can be utilized by all humans and is not exclusive to me. If you haven’t “lost” a fight with a monster yet, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about. (And I can only wish you luck that your streak continues.)_

_By now you’ve probably heard or read snippets of the monster’s dilemma, and if not, here’s the short of it-_

_-Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, monsters and humans both lived on the surface. Then one day there was a war between them and monsters lost. Humans sealed monsters underground with seven mages to create a barrier. Now monsters need seven human souls to break the barrier. The only way to get a human soul is if we…_

_I think you get the picture._

_I’m the first human to fall, so far. Or, at least I think I am? I’m pretty sure the king has (had?) a human kid of his own, maybe? There was a lot of human-shaped clothing in the house, and a coffin in the basement, but monsters don’t bury their dead, and it was empty._

_Maybe that coffin is for me._

_I’m straying off topic again. The main point of this letter I’m writing to you is to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorry you fell down here alone. I’m sorry I will never meet you. I’m sorry if you can’t get past Asgore. I’ve fought him more times than I can count, and I am usually a very patient person when it comes to finding alternative solutions._

_I have a confession to make- I don’t even really want to go back to the surface. While I won’t get into it, my life up there… wasn’t great, but you probably assumed that. (I mean, we all climbed that mountain for a reason, right?) So, this time, when I fight Asgore, I think it’ll be my last. Dying doesn’t scare me anymore, and I’m so tired of trying. Isn’t that the definition of insanity, or something? “Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?” I don’t feel insane. I just feel tired. So, unless by some fluke or miracle that I win, this time when I go down, I think I’ll stay down._

_Please don’t be sad. It’ll probably be decades by the time you read this so I’ll be gone either way. And please don’t resent the monsters either. I don’t know about you, but a lot of the ones I’ve met are actually quite friendly. And knowing my death will help them makes it hurt just a little less._

_Thank you for reading. I love you.  
Sincerely, the first human._

_P.S If you are a monster reading this, can you please put it back under the pillow here you found it, and please also don’t tell Asgore? (I don’t think he comes into this room all that much, but I still don’t want him to know I snooped.) Pretty please with chocolate sprinkles and a cherry on top? Thanks._

* * *

Asgore was not entirely certain if he believed in fate. Was it fate that ended the peace on the surface and caused the war to break out? Or was it the result of racial prejudice that had gone on ignored and unchecked for too long? Was it fate that his adopted human child would die so young and inadvertently caused the death of his son? Or was that just karma for forcing a single youth to bear the hopes and dreams of an entire nation when they had barely reached double digits in age? Was it fate when his wife left him after an outburst of grief, when he demanded all humans who fall into the underground to be killed for their souls, and declared his word law, or was that simply the consequences of his own choices coming back to bite him?

No, Asgore did not believe in fate. There were logical (if not unfair) steps and reasonings that could explain every tragic event that had happened in his life, so when the Underground’s second ever human visitor came to kill him, he chalked it up to merely a coincidence that it happened on the very same day since the first human had fallen, exactly 100 years prior.

At first, Asgore hadn’t noticed him, having been so quiet, patiently waiting at the edge of his garden, not wanting to intrude or interrupt. Asgore might not have noticed him at all if he hadn’t cleared his throat to announce his presence, so motionless in the shadows he had been.

The king jumped at the noise, startled to be snuck up upon (and by a child, no less) when his ears could once pick up on giggles and mischief making in the process halfway across the Underground.

Asgore turned to the intruder, mouth agape, suddenly struck dumb. For decades he had waited, seething and thirsting for revenge, but to be caught so off guard, he had no idea how to proceed next now that the opportunity had presented itself. Thankfully the child took over for him.

“Salutations,” said the child, sticking out one arm, clearly an invitation for a hand shake. “You are Mr. Asgore Dreemurr, king of the monsters, correct?”

Asgore could only stare. The child- a young man in a powder blue button-up shirt and suspenders with a red ribbon tied into a neat bowtie, evenly stared back with bright, pale blue eyes that seemed to know more than they let on.

To Asgore, those eyes looked far too old for the face it wore, and they also seemed very, very tired. Another kindred spirit to match his own? An echo of recognition ghosted over Asgore’s soul, so faint that it only registered on his subconscious.

After an awkward silence, the boy let his arm fall once it became clear that Asgore would not shake his hand. But he kept his head high and shoulders straight regardless, undeterred, and continued talking.

“I have travelled all the way across the Underground to meet you,” he said, filling the silence Asgore made, completely unbothered at the prospect of carrying the conversation. “I was also told about the barrier, and that a human soul is not strong enough to cross it on its own, and if I wanted to go back to the surface, I would need a monster soul to fuse with my own. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Asgore spoke at last, voice cracking. When had his throat become so dry? Asgore shook his head, at a loss for words. So many nights he had imagined this day, for the guilty to be brought before him, to deal justice to the one’s responsible for his people’s imprisonment and his children’s deaths. He had fantasized this moment far more than he had cared to admit, imagining the perpetrators cowering and begging him for mercy- mercy his subjects and his children never received. He envisioned himself stone hearted and cold- feeling nothing but anger and satisfaction at the prospect of finally returning all the pain unjustly given to him.

But this child- this small little human, who could not have been older than ten to have approached him so fearlessly and boldly, had completely ruined his well-rehearsed script, and Asgore was crap at adlibbing lines.

If he was being 100% honest with himself, Asgore would have admitted that his desire for revenge had evaporated decades ago. Many of the monsters who had lived through the war and his children’s demise had fallen down and turned to dust. While the newer generations still chanted the battle cries of old, they were already too far removed from the actual inciting incidents and thus their posturing was only a shell of those who had experienced the trauma fist hand. Make no mistake, they still wanted freedom, but fewer and fewer understood the scope of that idea as each year passed, and fewer still understood what exactly it would take to achieve it. ‘Bloodshed’ was a word in monster vocabulary, but its connotations with gruesome violence had softened over the years.

No, Asgore no longer wished to fight and kill like he had promised his people he would have- and in the last few years he had unconsciously figured he would never have to. After all the time that had passed, it seemed less and less likely that another human would find its way into the Underground until one day it just felt impossible. And then, before long with no human in sight, that feeling morphed into uncontested fact.

Until today when the status quo of his reality got a rude wakeup call and the laws of his world need some serious re-evaluation.

“Sorry…” Asgore said sheepishly. It was uttered so softly, he questioned if he had said the word at all. “I want to so badly ask if you would like a cup of tea, but…” he sighed, setting down his watering can. “From the look on your face, I suspect you know that would be frivolous pretense.”

The child nodded half alert. To Asgore he had an aura of someone who had seen it all before and was just going through the motions, but… that was impossible, right? Surely it would make more sense for the child to be frightened, confused and angry about being tossed into a world so different from their own. It was strange they were so calm and almost borderline bored.

“You know what we must do next, I assume?” Asgore asked.

“Yessir,” The child said with one sharp nod. To Asgore it looked rehearsed. It sounded rehearsed. Performed with the same apathetic inflection as one would answer the telephone.

“Very well,” Asgore stuttered, brushing the feeling aside. There was no time to contemplate that now. Not with an impending battle on the horizon. “Please. Follow me.”

The boy did so obediently, trailing after Asgore no more alert than a sleep walker as they wound through the corridor that ended before the barrier. It was only when Asgore felt the reverberations of the barrier in his bones, that the gravity of the situation truly began to settle in.

This was it. After years- decades- of waiting, the bloodshed he had promised his people was about to be delivered. He remembered the echoes of his war cry that he made the day after his children died, how he vowed that no matter who fell, be it man, woman, or child, that those unlucky humans would pay for their forbearer’s crimes with their lives.

But time had cooled the flames of his anger, and festered doubts and regrets. Could he really do it? To a boy who looked no older than his own? He didn’t think he could… but at this point, did he have any choice left?

A weary sigh was emitted from the soon-to-be executed behind him, and Asgore turned. The boy was looking back the way they had come, a glint of a new emotion shining in his eyes beneath all the defeat and exhaustion. Longing, perhaps? Regret?

“How tense,” Asgore said without thinking, his soul panging with pity for the human who was just as trapped in the situation as he was. That feeling of familiarity igniting in his soul once more. He could tell just by looking at this child that he knew how this battle would have to play out. A weird shine in his eyes told Asgore the boy had already _lived_ it.

And in that moment Asgore grieved, already knowing this child’s life was as good as over in this hour, and saw that the child knew it too.

“This is the barrier,” Asgore said, monotone. “It is what keeps us all trapped here underground.”

The child merely hummed, no fight left in their body. They were a dead man walking.

And… he doesn’t know why, but the sheer hopelessness in the boy’s face makes Asgore’s soul twist in a painful way. And for reasons beyond his understanding, he hesitates.

“Is there… anything else you’d like to do before we proceed?” He asks cautiously. The boy blinks, his head lifting and eyes clearing as if he’s waking from a dream.

“What?”

“I am sorry,” He doesn’t know why he’s apologizing. It just felt like something he should do. “It seemed… Wrong to challenge someone who already looked so defeated. If… there’s anything else you’d like to do before we… end this, I would not mind. Even something as small as taking a walk or reading a book is important enough.”

The blue eyed child blinked again, speechless. “This is… new,” he said cryptically.

“Beg pardon?”

“I said ‘I do.’ Have things I still want to do, that is.” The child explained. “Before we must… you know.”

Asgore nodded, encouragingly. “Yes, yes. Go finish whatever you wish. I shall wait here until you are ready.”

The child raised his head, back straight once more, but this time with confidence instead of formalities. He smiled, a hopeful, thankful (and perhaps a bit shrewd) grin that made Asgore feel just a bit better.

“Thank you, Sir!” The boy chirped. “I promise I’ll come back. Eventually. But for now I have to try something!”

Asgore mumbled, saying it was all very well, but did not watch the boy go. He would wait. Let him take all the time he needed.

* * *

_Dear diary (and any future humans! Hello!)_

_Welp! By some miracle of miracles I didn’t die! I didn’t kill Asgore, if that’s what you’re thinking. We didn’t even fight. I don’t know why things were different this time. None of the monsters seem to remember our previous confrontations every time I “lose” to them, but for some reason, this time Asgore offered me the opportunity to tie up any loose ends before we battled. He said, and I quote “if there’s anything you wish to do before we proceed, you may. Even something as small as reading a book or going for a walk is important enough.”_

_And as soon as he said that, I got a brilliant idea! I’m going to do… EVERYTHING! I’m going to take up his suggestion and read every book I can find, and visit every neighborhood and meet every monster, and try every food! It’s going to take a while, but that’s the point. Maybe if I take long enough, King Asgore will realize how silly all this fighting is and we can just live in peace. I can only hope. I promise to keep you updated! Stay tuned!_

_Sincerely,_  
_The first human_

_P.S. This diary isn’t secret or anything, so feel free to keep reading! And if you want one of your own, find Mr. Gerson, the “war hammer of justice”. He lives in Waterfall and has a ton of journals and notebooks to choose from, and writing a diary to you really helps one feel less lonely. (The only sad thing is that you can’t write me back. That’s okay. You’re still like a secret mystery friend to me! I love you! See you soon!)_

* * *

The boy did not return.

Asgore stood and waited at the barrier. He did not turn around to watch the boy’s departure, nor did he want to face him upon his return. He studied the magical seal, thoughts wondering. They drifted back to the boy without him realizing it. He hoped he was making the most of what time he had left. He hoped the child’s mind was free of worry and fear at that moment. He hoped-

Asgore blinked back to the present. Best not to think about those things right now.

The minutes ticked on and Asgore still waited. The light that shined through the barrier began to shift as the sun set, bathing the tunnel in amber tones. Asgore sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot. His ankles were beginning to hurt from standing so long, but he dared not voice complaint, even in private. It was a king’s duty to bear pain with tolerance and grace.

Slowly sunset dimmed into twilight, and the air around him began to cool.

Leaning heavily on his trident, Asgore lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged. Despite being unable to age, Asgore’s body was not young. If he didn’t rest his knees every so often, they’d give him hell for it later.

Still, he sat facing the barrier in attentive, silent vigil, waiting for the human’s return.

Hours passed. The last of the sunlight vanished, casting the chamber into the darkness of night. From deep down the tunnel, Asgore saw the faint glow of the rising moon, casting its silver light across the walls. Asgore yawned and stretched, flexing his limbs in an effort to stay awake. Despite not even particularly exerting himself, Asgore found he was getting drowsy.

Crickets sang in the distance, harmonized periodically by the dower cry of an owl. And still the boy did not return.

Only when the night had reached its darkest, quietest hour, did Asgore begin to get concerned.

Maybe he had more than one thing he wanted to do? Or maybe he had a lot of people to say goodbye to. Or perhaps the boy had gone exploring and ended up getting lost? There were plenty of winding paths in Waterfall one could easily get turned around in. Or worse- get stuck in, too far off the beaten path for anyone to hear a cry for help-

Asgore’s soul skipped at the thought. What if the child was hurt? Or stuck? What if he-?

Asgore grunted, screwing up his eyes to block out the hypothetical scenarios. What should he care if the human got hurt? It would make his job easier if he did. But then another thought struck him-

What if the human decided to end his life on his own terms? Jumping into Waterfall’s many abysmal pits where his body would never be recovered; a final insult to monsters to prevent them from claiming his soul?

No. No, that would be ridiculous, Asgore decided. If the child had wanted to spite the monsters like that, then why would they have come to New Home at all? The defeat in the child’s eyes had told Asgore they were at their wits end, seeing no other options or alternatives but to fight him to proceed, or die trying to escape.

The child must have lost track of time, is all, Asgore figured. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” as the saying went, and Asgore hoped that the boy was currently having the time of his life while he waited with his sharpened trident.

Sighing, Asgore closed his eyes, reminiscing about the surface to pass the time. Soon monsters would be one step closer to freedom. All Asgore had to do was wait, and so wait he would.

And still, the boy did not return.

At some point Asgore realized that he had fallen asleep, for the next thing he knew, he was startled awake by bird song and an ache in his neck and back.

Asgore blinked around in confusion. The barrier room was now awash with bright, clean light of the new dawn, but still not human child in sight.

Asgore sighed in a mixture of relief and annoyance. It was stupid of him to have fallen asleep by the barrier. The human could have snuck up on him in his sleep! On one hand, Asgore was very thankful the boy hadn’t, but on the other he was quite irritated to see the boy still had not come back, and by now Asgore’s tolerance was wearing thin.

Out of nowhere, an intrusive thought hits him- What if the boy hasn’t returned yet because he’s out there building up his LOVE? The idea is enough to form a pit of ice in the king’s stomach, but he clings to that small kernel of fear and hatred, willing it to grow so he too can become as cold and emotionless as steel. Stupid! How stupid of him to not predict this! Why hadn’t he done a CHECK on the boy first before letting him go?

Mind jumping to the Worst Case Scenario, Asgore struggled to his feet and anxiously hurried out of the barrier room. Heart racing, he quickened his pace through his garden, rounded his throne, and-

Stopped short in bewilderment.

There, seated I the middle of his garden, surrounded by two tall stacks of books, was the human.

The boy blinked and looked up; his reading light suddenly obscured by the gigantic Boss Monster. He smiled warmly and spoke.

“Oh, Salutations, Mr. Asgore, sir!” The child greets him. “I hope me sitting on your throne isn’t an intrusion. I did not want to risk disturbing your flowers or getting your books soiled.”

To be frank, the realization that the child was in the seat that represented Asgore’s authority hadn’t even registered until he had mentioned it. Asgore knit his brow and inhaled, trying to scrounge up any kind of anger to use against the boy, but the small flame he previously had had been extinguished. No, the act of a child sitting in his throne did not offend him, and his reasoning for doing so- to protect his books and flowers had been too thoughtful to warrant any resentment or ire. To be mad at the child would be cruel and unjust. Asgore exhaled.

“Is this… where you’ve been all this time?”

“Yessir!”

“Just reading?”

“Pretty much. You have a lot of books.”

“All through the night?”

“Ah, no. I stopped around sunset last night then went back to the inn in Snowdin. The innkeeper, Mr. Jack Rabbit, is very friendly. He let me stay the night for free since I didn’t have enough money, or a home to go to. He says he hopes to make this a custom to pass down to the future innkeepers, because he thinks no child should have to sleep in the cold. Coming from a big rabbit family, he told me that sometimes there wasn’t enough room in the bed with his bigger siblings growing up, and sometimes he had to sleep on the cold floor.”

Asgore winces in sympathy, freshly reminded that the housing crisis in Snowdin was still very much a real thing that he’d have to confront sooner rather than later. If it were not for this child- a wrench in his usual routine- he would have jumped on the issue right then and there. Then again, if it weren’t for the child, would he even have remembered the issue at all?

“Child,” Asgore said, getting the boy’s attention. “When do you think you will be ready to… confront me?”

“Hmm…. Maybe after I’m done reading all these books? I’m already half way done.”

Asgore eyed the book dubiously. He did not know which stack was “finished” and which was still “to be read”. Both were equally tall with many titles that made up their height.

“I’m a fast reader. Don’t worry,” the boy replied, reading Asgore’s thoughts.

“Do not strain your eyes.”

“I take enough breaks.”

Shaking his head at the child’s silliness, Asgore headed back to the barrier room to continue waiting.

* * *

_Dear Diary (and any future humans)_

_Turns out the phrase “stubborn old goat” has some truth in it. I should have inferred as much when Toriel refused to leave the Ruins. I should visit her… Anyway, as I predicted, Asgore’s trying to wait me out, but he’s being more extreme than I anticipated. I waited for him in his garden all day, but after he came to check on me, he went right back to the barrier! I wonder if he’s hungry. I hope he won’t starve himself over this. That’s just melodramatic at this point. Oh, well. I can find plenty to do if he wants to hide in a dingy ancient barrier chamber. (I think he’s uncomfortable about being around me. I don’t think he’s scared of me or anything, but it’s clear he wants to avoid interacting with me unless we fight.) He’ll have to come out sometime._

_Anyway, I read so many books that the words started dancing and making me dizzy. If you haven’t looked into it yet, I suggest learning about monster magic! It’s so cool! I want to know everything about it, especially how monsters use it in medicine. Here’s a secret about me; I want to be a doctor when I grow up. In fact, I have this cool toy knife that I pretend is a scalpel so I can do surgery on m patients and remove their tumors. If I can somehow learn magic, I could maybe become the best doctor in the world! Curing people without having to make them hurt. Wouldn’t that be amazing? What do you want to be when you grow up? Do you want to help people, too?_

_Talk to you later! I love you!_

* * *

The sun rose and began to set. Asgore subconsciously marked the passage of time by its heat and the length of the shadows it cast. Hours passed. A terrible cramp was beginning to form in Asgore’s left knee. He did his best to ignore it, focusing his attention elsewhere. To endure discomfort and bear it gracefully was the mark of a king.

To pass the time, Asgore tried his hand at meditation, though it did not come naturally to him. Every time he tried to settle his mind and clear his thoughts, his mind would wander, to wondering what the child was reading and if he was enjoying his book, to his favorite book, and then to his favorite music piece, and then to trying to remember the lyrics of a ballad he once wrote for an old flame of his. No, do not think about that. Think about your posture. Slouching will ruin your back. Can one get sleep paralysis from meditating? Unlikely. Now there is an itch on his nose that he _must_ scratch before it drives him mad-

The skipping of a small stone breaks his trance and pulls him back into the present. Asgore turns his head to find the human child peering cautiously around the doorway. His soul skips a beat. Were they finally ready? Was it finally time?

“Ah, good evening, sir,” the boy said meekly as he shuffled into the barrier room, a nervous pace to his step. “I thought I’d find you here.”

“You’ve come,” Asgore said, gruffly, and cleared his throat, dry from thirst. “So I take it you are ready to proceed, then?” He asks in a faltering manner.

“Huh? Oh, no. I wanted to bring you some dinner!”

Asgore blinked, only noticing then that the boy has an old canvas bag slung on his shoulder. Shuffling it off, he sat cross-legged on the ground and began pulling out a half-used loaf of sliced bread, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of fruit preserves, two plates and two butter knives; one for each jar.

“I… didn’t see you eat at all today, or all of yesterday afternoon,” the boy explained, seeing the unasked question of ‘why’ in the kings eyes. “I figured you must be hungry. I hope you don’t mind me going through your pantry.”

The boy casually pulled out two slices of bread and began to spread smooth peanut butter onto one of the pieces.

“And sorry I couldn’t bring you any fancier food. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are the only thing I know how to make on my own, heh.”

Asgore didn’t know whether to be fascinated or offended that the boy spoke so casually at him, especially when the trident that would eventually run him through still shone red-hot in his hand. In a fleeting moment of self-awareness it occurred to Asgore that he could slay the child right then and there while he had his guard completely down. He would never know what hit him.

But… but that would be a slimy underhand tactic, even if there was no honor or rules in war. Did the child simply trust Asgore enough to keep his word to not fight until they requested it? Were they just oblivious? Or did they simply hold no value in their own mortality?

(The last thought strikes a chord in Asgore- one he had forgotten but was pained to discover was still fine-tuned to cause acute pain. Chara, the only human he’d dare to consider a child of his own, had hinted similar sentiments when asked on why they climbed the mountain.)

Distracted by memory, too late Asgore realized he’s missed his window for ambush. The child has finished making a sandwich, puts it on a plate, and pushed it towards him.

“This one’s for you!” he said proudly. “I hope you like smooth peanut butter. I saw a jar of chunky peanut butter, but it looked pretty full, so I guessed you don’t like that one as much, right?” The boy went on. “Or maybe- is chunky peanut butter harder to get in the underground? Is it scarcer, so you don’t use it as much so you try to save it for special occasions? I can’t imagine why chunky peanut butter would be rarer, though. Wouldn’t it be easier to make than smooth? You don’t have to work as hard crushing up the peanuts. You can just put in half the effort and still get a product a lot of people enjoy.”

The thought of eating food made by the human filled him with unease. Not that he feared he poisoned it, but it felt akin to a prisoner eating his last meal before execution. In a sense, it was true, even if Asgore was not the one headed the chopping block.

The boy set to work making another sandwich, repeating the same process of skillfully scooping out a dollop of peanut butter and spreading it evenly on the bread with a flick of the wrist.

“I don’t enjoy crunchy peanut butter, though. I used to, back when I lived on…” he trails off, his youthful face suddenly taking on a few years when he realizes he’s straying too close to a sensitive topic. “Back when I still had baby teeth,” he says instead. “Y’see, once I made a P B and J sandwich- P B and J stands for peanut butter and jelly, by the way- and I bit into it, and a crunchy peanut hit one of my loose teeth just right and it was the worst pain I ever felt. Even worse, the peanut got stuck! Does that ever happen to you?” The boy moved onto the jelly. “Peanuts getting stuck in your teeth, I mean. You’ve got a lot of space between your fangs. Do all monsters have fangs? Or do you have molars and incisors too?

“I hope these sandwiches come out good. I’ve never made one with raspberry preserves before. Only ever grape or strawberry jelly, but I couldn’t find any of those in your fridge or pantry. Do they not grow well down here?”

With the two halves prepared, the human squinted his eyes, poked out his tongue, and aligned them with far more precision than necessary and completed his sandwich.

(Asgore decided he really needed to stop calling this child “boy” and “Human” in his mind, but he could not bring himself to ask for his name when there was a chance he’d have to slit their throat mere moments later. His eyes once again drifted to that oversaturated red ribbon tied around his neck. Such a vibrant, eye catching accessory that he couldn’t look away from. That’s what he could call him in his mind; ribbon child. That would do.)

“Well… bon apetit!” the boy said, and took a massive bite from his PB&J. “Mmmm” the boys eyes fluttered closed. “I neber knew wasbewwies were so goob.” He said through a mouth-full of peanut butter.

 _Do it,_ a tiny part of Asgore’s brain demanded him. _While he is helpless and distracted! Take his soul! Do it now!_

But Asgore only continued to watch. A glob of raspberry jelly squished out the other end of his sandwich and right on to his shirt, but the child didn’t even notice. It was somewhat funny to see such a polite boy be such a messy eater. Asgore sat frozen, unable to move even if he tried.

A few bites later, and the sandwich was gone, and afterwards the boy wiped the crumbs from his lap.

“Are… you going to eat yours?” The ribbon child asked seeing Asgore’s plate was untouched.

“I am not hungry,” Asgore lied.

“Oh,” the boy said a bit crestfallen. “Okay, I’ll leave it there then. Monster food doesn’t go bad after all, right? It’ll be fine.” Suddenly looking embarrassed, the boy hastily packed up his place and food stuffs before standing back up.

“Thanks for talking with me, sir.” He said.

“It is… appreciated,” the king ventured. “But if I may ask you, ribbon child, do you think you will be ready to fight me any time soon?”

The child’s eyebrows arched at the nickname, and a small grin poked at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, uh, I don’t think so,” he said when he realized he hadn’t answered the question. “I did finish all the books in your house that I wanted to read, but…” Asgore looked up, anticipatory. “…but all your stories about magic got me really excited to learn more! So then I went to Snowdin to find more books about it. I want to learn everything I can about magic and how it works. But, unfortunately the library only lets you take out two books at a time, so it might take me a bit longer. Monster magic is so… so useful! And good! Using magic in food to heal people? If only humans could do that… Using magic to help people… what an idea.”

Asgore turned away, carefully controlling his breathing so his sigh would not come off as aggravated. More delays. But he could handle it. He _would_ handle it. What other choice did he have?

“That is understandable,” he said at last. Why did he keep making acceptations? Why did he keep letting the child find a way out? “I did promise to let you finish all that you wanted to do first, after all. I am not going anywhere. When you are ready, you’ll know where to find me.”

“Thank you so much for understanding, Mr. King, sir!” With a newfound skip in his step, the ribbon child retreated once again. “See you tomorrow!”

The human left and all was quiet. Asgore settled in for another lonely night of meditation.

Asgore, being a beast in nature and magic by makeup, could go quite a few days without food or water without any ill effect. He remembered doing so in the times of war when rations were scarce and also in the early days of their imprisonment when monsters were first settling into the Underground before any sustainable farming had yet to be implemented. Of course he still felt hunger and thirst, but he could afford to ignore it in order to put his people fist. He saw his people fed before he took his own, and if ever a time came when there was not enough to go around, he made sure he would go hungry before his citizens.

Asgore stared at the sandwich the human boy had made for him. Food shortages had not been a problem in decades, but he still had no appetite. He turned his back on it without a second glance.

* * *

_Salutations diary and friends!_

_I think I’m starting to get through to the king a bit. Today I made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He didn’t eat it, but you’ll never guess what he did do. He called me “ribbon child”. Isn’t that hilarious? I don’t mind though. In all our encounters he has never asked for my name and I never gave it, so I don’t mind the nickname. It’s certainly better than being called “human” or “boy” all the time. It makes me unique, and it is rather fitting. My red bowtie is my favorite possession right alongside my toy knife. My teachers said it made me look “dashing” which I guess means “cute” and not “quick” (because I’ve worn my ribbon to gym, and it certainly did not help me run faster.) Do you have any favorite clothes or toys? Oh, wait, if you do, they might be on the surface, wouldn’t they? Sorry for bringing it up. If you want something to play with or wear to look cute, I’ll be sure to leave my ribbon and knife somewhere for you to find when the day comes that I don’t need them anymore. After all, sharing is caring!_

_See you later, friends. I love you!  
~Ribbon Child~_

* * *

The next afternoon the boy appeared again, this time with a flask and two cups. Immediately Asgore knew there would be no fight again today.

Walking into the barrier room, the child took his place where he had yesterday. He (intentionally, Asgore thinks) does not look at or mention the untouched sandwich. Instead he unscrewed the flask and poured two tall glasses of orange juice.

“Thought you might be thirsty,” the ribbon child said. “I completely didn’t think about drinks yesterday. I apologize for that.”

Reflexively, Asgore started to mumble something like “no apologies necessary” or maybe it was “the thought was kind enough”. He catches himself at the last moment and just ended up grumbling instead.

“I know I said I’d get back to you today about our… Confrontation,” the boy says, not looking at Asgore. “But while I was in the library, this group of kids came up to me asking me to join their snowball fight. I had to join them or else the teams would be uneven and that wouldn’t be fair.”

Asgore hummed a non-comment.

“So I agreed and helped them in their snowball fight, but then some of the kids’ moms called them home for dinner, so we had to stop. The snowball fight is in a truce right now, but-”

Ah, there it was.

“I have to go back tomorrow to help them win the final battle.”

Asgore closed his eyes, and repeated what he had said yesterday. “It is fine. Do all you need to do.” He was beginning to wonder if it would be more beneficial just to get a tape recording of himself saying those words for the boy to listen to each time he bothered to come back when it was so clear to Asgore he was stalling for time.

Taking a break from the chit-chat, the boy took one glass and downed the orange juice in four large gulps, some juice dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt (which was starting to gather an impressive collection of stains.)

“I hope you like it. I squeezed the oranges myself! Uh, oh… I hope they were magic oranges. I wouldn’t want it to go sour on you.”

“It will be fine,” Asgore assured.

“Anyway, I’ll get back to you tomorrow!”

With that the boy picked himself up, taking his empty glass with him, and left the barrier room. Asgore eyed the glass of juice. Enduring hunger was one thing, but thirst was another. Giving in, Asgore broke his silent protest and took a sip. The juice was cool and divine. With great restraint, he stopped himself from downing the whole thing right here, and placed the glass next to his untouched sandwich to save for later. He had a feeling he would be here a while.

The next day the boy didn’t come back until it was very late. The sun had completely risen and set before Asgore saw him again.

Sheepishly, the boy shuffled into the barrier room, eyes down cast, his whole body radiating guilt. Instantly Asgore did a CHECK on the boy, but found no increase of EXP or LOVE whatsoever, so the reason for his nervousness was a mystery. Did that mean he was ready?

“Hi, Mr. King Asgore,” the boy said hesitantly. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It is no trouble,” Asgore lied, rising to his feet. “I take it you are ready, now?”

“Actually, about that…”

Asgore couldn’t help it. His eyes narrowed. What could it possibly be to delay the inevitable now?

“It turns out that group of kids I was playing with? Well, they didn’t tell me they were skipping school to have their snowball fight. The teacher caught us and gave everyone detention… including me.”

“That… isn’t possible,” Asgore spoke slowly. “You are not a student at any of the schools in the Underground. Detention does not apply to you.”

“Hey, that’s what I said,” the human chuckled. “But the principal said that human or not, all kids are required to go to school, and…” Fishing into their pocket, the ribbon child produced a letter certifying their enrollment into Snowdin elementary, date effective immediately. “Well…. It does now.

“The teacher gave us assignments to make up for what we missed in class, and she was so impressed by my work, she insisted I become an official student so she could- how did she put it? ‘Nurture the garden of my mind so it could blossom into its full potential.’ Honestly I think the busy work she gave me was simply the wrong grade level.”

“Very amusing,” Asgore dead panned. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “So do you mean to tell me that you will not initiate our final confrontation until, what? When the school year is over?”

“I’m not sure. I was told next week was a holiday. If I don’t like the curriculum, maybe we can, uh, discuss our action plan then?”

Sensing his well of patience was starting to run dry, Asgore let out a dramatic sigh, not caring it was uncouth for a king.

“Fine. I’ll check in with you next week.”

“Great! See you then!” the ribbon child beamed, and bounded away. Asgore debated following. He knew for sure now that the child would not be willing to fight him for at least a couple of days, but he could not bring himself to leave the barrier room… he knew, deep down in his soul that if he tried to get back into his routine now, his heart just wouldn’t be in it. Not when the promise of violence would be stalking behind him every waking moment, clinging to the back of each of his thoughts.

Maybe… maybe fighting a child to the death was not a very good plan to begin with. The longer he waited for the child to come to him, the more time doubts had to wiggle their way into his soul, and the more he doubted, the less certain he became about his plans.

But by this point what other option did he _have_? He had made a promise to his people- written his word into law. He had lost his children, his wife, his hope of ever being free to see the surface again. He could not lose the faith of his people. Not when they still looked to him for guidance.

Asgore eyes the sandwich and glass of juice. Such a small, unrequested jester of compassion that instantly doused any animosity he had towards the child.

“When” would he do it started to shift into “could” he even do it. He wasn’t sure himself anymore. His gut, quite literally, answered for him, and for the first time in days, his stomach growled. Sighing, Asgore gingerly picked up the plate and glass before moving further into the barrier room. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

_Greetings diary and friends!_

_My name is ribbon child, caretaker of the Ruins (ha ha! Guess who I am pretending to be! If you said Toriel, you are right!)_

_I’ve been writing to Toriel a lot recently, and sliding the letters under the Ruins’ door for her. I don’t know if she reads them. She hasn’t mailed any back yet._

_I’ve been making a lot of friends with the other kids in the underground. They know so many games! And guess what- Today I went to a MONSTER SCHOOL. It was the best day of school I’ve ever had in my life! (Even though I spent it in detention). All the monsters were so nice, both the kids AND the grown-ups. Nobody made fun of me for ANYTHING unlike the kids on the surface. The teachers even complemented me for my knowledge instead of teased me or got angry for “showing off”. I want to go again tomorrow. (I hear they teach monster kids how to use their magic! Maybe I can learn too!) Asgore seems like he’s starting to get annoyed, but I don’t care. I love learning, especially when I can use it to help people! Wish me luck! Love you, bye!_

* * *

Time was beginning to lose its meaning to Asgore. How long had he been waiting by the barrier? Three days? Four? Ten?? He could tell anymore. They had all begun to blur together into one, dull monotony, like the ever-present droning hum of the barrier.

There was another noise that had been pestering Asgore as of late. One he found he could not ignore or put off even if he wanted to; the call of nature. Unlike the barrier, this noise took on a form of an ever nagging thought, constantly pestering, and reminding him that he really, really needed to pee. Monster foods may be absorbed completely into the body, but fluids were another case entirely.

Stiff joints groaning, Asgore got to his feet. What day was it? Thursday? Friday? He had a five in seven chance that the ribbon child was still in school, which meant he could sneak back home, eat a proper meal, show and relieve himself without the human ever noticing he had left his post. (Not for the first time he curses his faltering willpower for giving in and drinking the juice. If he could have been stronger, he could have waited out the child for several more days. Then again, if he had had the willpower to begin with, he wouldn’t have to play this waiting game at all.)

Deciding it was worth the risk, Asgore gathered up his dishes and left the barrier room.

Subconsciously, he notices something was amiss before he even stepped foot into his garden. The air was thick with the smell of petrichor- the earthy scent of damp soil and vegetation. But this could not be… it had not rained since before he took his vow to stand vigil at the barrier. Why-

He found the answer beneath his feet a moment later when he stepped into a muddle puddle. Someone had recently watered his garden.

His garden! He thinks with sudden horror, how could he have chosen to neglect it so long! His prized golden flowers, the last gift and memory of his son. He can’t believe he’d forgotten. And whichever the fool who was watering them now would drown them! Every blossom would be wilting or flooded by now! He had to hurry and-

Asgore stopped into the garden, rounded a bush-

And nearly choked on his tongue at the sight before him. A striped sweater of green and yellow, pale skin covered in mud, a warm smile framed by flushed cheeks-

Asgore dropped his dishes. They fell on top of one another and shattered.

The sound of breaking glass startles the human and he whips around, revealing a red ribbon tied around their neck. Wide blue eyes meet his, and Asgore remembers how to breathe.

He can’t decide if he should be relieved or enraged. The ribbon child is wearing _their_ clothes, and for a split second he had thought…

“Oh! M-my apologies, Mr. King Asgore, sir,” The boy stammers, his words tumbling out of his mouth as he hastily stands to greet the king. “I’m sorry if I’ve over stepped my boundaries, but I had noticed your -f-flowers staring to droop, and I was afraid they would die, so I took it upon myself to water them for you. I was very careful, I promise.”

Asgore closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. Now that his initial shock had worn off, he could think straight again. He asked his most pressing question first to help him determine his course of action.

“Why… are you wearing those clothes?” he said as calmly as he could.

The boy blinked and snapped his head down to see what he was wearing. His face, already red from surprise, grew even redder.

“Oh! I-I-I am so sorry! Y-you see, there was this… tub monster? Or maybe it was a sink? I think her name was Cleansly. Anyway, she saw my old clothes were all stained and dirty and made me give them to her so she could wash them. She really didn’t give me much of a choice in the matter. She wouldn’t stop pestering me until I agreed. Then I remembered seeing a bunch of kids clothes in your house that hadn’t looked touched in ages, so I figured if no one else was using them, then maybe… I could, borrow one for a bit? At least until I got mine back.”

Asgore closed his eyes, his ire fading. He knew Cleansly and her obsessiveness with hygiene. It ran in her family. The boy was telling the truth in that regard, and thus Asgore could not hold it against him that he needed a temporary wardrobe change. The boy had not intended to impersonate nor offend, and thus no wrong doing had been committed, but if only he knew how much he resembled his own child in those clothes…

Taking his silence as a sign of disapproval, the human began sputtering even more apologies.

“Y-you’re right,” he said, even though Asgore had said nothing at all. “I-I should have tried harder to say no to Cleansly. Or, at the very least I should have asked you for permission first before I borrowed the clothes in your house. I-I can go to Hotland or Snowdin and buy my own clothes if I need to-“

“Do not bother,” Asgore said, low and insouciant. “As you said, they were not being used. There is… no one who would miss them.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” The ribbon child said.

“Tell me, human, what day is it?” Asgore asked, ready to change the subject.

“Saturday, the twenty-fourth, sir.”

Asgore gave a slight nod. He had mixed up his days. No wonder the boy was here and not in school. Though this did mean the holiday week was upon them. Asgore needed to ask. He needed to know when this waiting game would finally be over.

“So… how did you enjoy monster school?”

The ribbon child perked up at once.

“Monster school is amazing!” they praised. “I learned so much about your history and magic all in one week, and way more than what the library books taught me! I can’t wait until we start our unit about designing bullet patterns!”

Asgore’s face fell. “Ah, but next week is a holiday. Didn’t you make plans to…” The king trailed off, and this time it was the child’s turn for his face to sour.

“Oh, uh, about that…” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, unable to meet the king’s eyes. Asgore’s brow creased, already knowing where this was going. “I actually really like school, and I was kinda planning to… keep going?”

“Child,” Asgore sighed. (He realized he’d been doing that a lot, lately.) “Tell me, do you _ever_ intend to face me?”

The boy’s eyes wandered around the garden, then up towards the ceiling where ivy-covered stalactites clung overhead. He seemed to look everywhere, except at the king.

“Just… be honest,” Asgore gently urged.

“To tell the truth, sir?” The boy found his nerve and looked the king of all monsters dead in the eye. “No. I’d rather stay trapped here than fight you ever again.”

‘Again’? Asgore brushed off the strange wording. Children often exaggerated when trying to convey conviction.

“You would so readily give up any chance to go back home? Just like that?” Asgore asked astounded.

“No one up there misses me,” The boy shrugged, unperturbed. “I kind of like it down here in the Underground. Monsters are so nice!”

Asgore grimaced, slightly offended at the impertinence of mankind. Humans, who had sentenced them to an eternity trapped underground, stealing away their right to the sun and the stars and the world out of prejudice, and then one falls into the Underground, and declares that their situation is the preferable one? Did the insulting disposition of mankind know no limits?

“Human.” Asgore pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off an impending headache. “You are aware of the monster’s plight, as I recall?”

“Yes,” the ribbon child’s gaze remained steadfast, though his voice grew quiet. “I know you need my soul to help free your people. But you said that you wouldn’t fight me until I was ready. I’m not ready.”

“Child, you do realize you cannot escape the inevitable.” Asgore said.

“Maybe not,” The child shrugged. “But I can delay it.”

“I have made a promise to my people-“

“And you also made a promise to me. And guess what? You can keep both promises. You’ll still get my soul eventually. You just have to be patient.”

Patient? Asgore would have scoffed if he wasn’t so tired of the whole situation A child telling _him_ about the importance of delayed gratification? Asgore has been forced to be nothing _but_ patient for the last thousand years, and when the first sign of hope for their freedom came within grasp…

“You keep claiming that you are not ready, and I am beginning to think that you never will be ready,” Asgore remarked. The boy smirked a knowing grin before quickly turning away to hide it. He cleared his throat, turned back and spoke;

“How about we make a compromise? I know you try to hide it, but you don’t really like waiting in the barrier room.” The ribbon child said. “And I know you don’t really want to fight me either, though you feel like you have to.”

Asgore flinched. Was it really that obvious?

“And since I don’t plan to fight you anytime soon, it’s rather pointless just to sit there all day and night just to avoid me.” So instead, how about we just go about our lives like usual, and only if and when I’m ready to face you, then we can go to the barrier?”

“I appreciate the offer, small one, but my duty is to my people first,” Asgore said firmly. “I cannot be seen sharing pleasantries with you, or my citizens will think I have gone back on my word.”

“We don’t have to be seen together,” The ribbon child shrugged. Turning away, the boy picked up the watering can and resumed tending the flowers he’d yet to water. “I can stay in Snowdin. I already sleep and go to school there. Or, I could go back to the Ruins if Snowdin isn’t far enough away for your comfort.”

“A valiant suggestion,” Asgore said. “But it still will not suffice. I cannot have a human running loose in the Underground. Do not take my next words personally, but humans have hurt me and my people far too many times in the past. I have no reason to trust you.”

“Fair point.” The boy said, not looking up from his watering. “You can assign a guard to keep tabs on me, if you want.”

Asgore considered this, and for longer than he should have. He shook his head. “No. It would be a waste of monsters’ time and resources. And I cannot ask any citizen of mine, guard or not, to do something I am unwilling to do.”

“I guess we really are in a pickle, then,” the boy said, unconcerned. He turned his back on Asgore. “I have one last alternative, though.”

The ribbon child tipped the watering can as far as he could, sprinkling the last drops of water onto the flower patch, then put the can down. He reached into his pocket and fished out an old cell phone. “A kind old lady named Toriel gave me this phone. If it’s alright with you, I could call you each day to let you know where I’m at and what I’m doing. You’d still have to trust me that I’m telling the truth but this way you’ll know what I’m up to without having to be seen with me, or- um, sir? Are you okay?”

Asgore’s mind felt like it was full of static. _Toriel_. He hadn’t thought about her in months! So she was still alive? Even after all these years? Granted, he knew deep down that she was just as immortal as he was under the circumstances, but he had always figured she would move on, remarry and start another family to allow herself to grow old, the way nature had intended. But if she was still around, did that mean she, too, had never fully healed?

“Mr. King Asgore, sir?” The boy tried again. Gently, he brushed the king’s arm with the tips of his fingers. Asgore winced, and withdrew. The boy recoiled in turn, unsure if he had stepped out of line.

“Er, what were you saying? About phone calls?” Asgore asked to distract himself from the emotional whiplash.

“I said I could leave you a phone call each day,” the boy repeated softly, unsure what had caused such a reaction in the king, but treading the conversation carefully in hopes it wouldn’t happen again. “That way you could know where I am and what I’m up to without hiring a baby sitter for me. Would that, um… would that work?”

“Y-yes, yes. I can… work with that.” Asgore muttered, his mind distracted. His head was swimming in a deluge of unwarranted emotion. He needed to be alone to sort out his thoughts. “I take it you will call me when you are ready for our battle?”

“That’s the idea,” The ribbon child said, his shoulders relaxing. “But don’t hold your breath. I plan to do so much before I’m ready to face you.”

“So be it,” Asgore nodded, and for the first time in a week, he felt like he could breathe a little easier. Sensing the conversation was over, the human took their leave and left the throne room, leaving Asgore alone with his garden.

Closing his eyes, Asgore took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of his flowers. After a few moments, he headed home, eager to put as much distance between himself and the human as possible. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

_Hi diary and friends._

_I think I’ve finally gotten through to Asgore today, though I wasn’t trying to. It was a pretty scary ordeal._

_You see, this morning, while I was headed through Hotland, I ran into a monster who was upset at how dirty my clothes were. She wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave her my shirt and suspenders to her, but I wasn’t going to run around naked! It’s against the law, I think. Well, I remembered seeing kids’ clothes in Asgore’s house, and new home was closer than Snowdin, so I ran all the way here and borrowed some so the neat-freak monster would back off. I felt bad about not asking, but I didn’t want to fight the monster either, so I made the best choice I could. After that I was going to visit Asgore again but when I entered the garden I noticed his flowers weren’t doing so good, and since Asgore’s a stubborn old goat, I doubted he wouldn’t leave the barrier room, so I decided to water his flowers for him._

_He caught me._

_I wish I could read minds because his face wasn’t angry, but it was very scared and very sad. But I didn’t hurt any of his flowers or anything. I think he thought I was someone else. Anyway, Asgore and I finally had a talk where he actually REPLIED to me for once instead of just nodding and grunting. He knows I’ve been purposefully avoiding him just like he’s been avoiding me, but we’ve both come to an agreement; he won’t hide in the barrier room if I don’t interact with him, and I won’t fight him until I say so. (Jokes on him! I’m NEVER going to fight him! I know I can’t win!)_

_I’m gonna live a long, full life even if it’s trapped here in the Underground. I’m gonna grow up and become a doctor who helps monsters instead of people. It’s the least I could do for them. After all, they’ve already helped me. I hope they’ve been helping you too, future friends. Write to you later. I love you. Bye!_

* * *

Asgore was finding he no longer needed an alarm to wake him up every morning. His daily voicemail from the ribbon child became his clock.

He tapped a button to play the recording.

“Good morning Mr. King Dreemurr, sir! I’ll be headed over to the ruins today, and should be back in Snowdin by dinner time. I hope you have a good day!”

Asgore deleted the message. As useful as their little check-in system was, Asgore found himself using the human’s daily messages for a different reason. A month into this arrangement, Asgore found he no longer cared where the human was anymore. Most monsters recognized the ribbon child for what he was and accepted it. If, for some reason the child went rouge, Asgore would be notified immediately, but by now everyone could tell the human was not any sort of threat.

Still, that didn’t mean all monsters were complicit with a stray human wandering wherever he please, and they made this gripe very clear to Asgore on a daily basis.

Time and time again, his citizens would come to him, asking him to rid their neighborhoods of the pesky little interloper, and time and time again Asgore responded with the same thing; “If I see him, I’ll tell him. I promise.”

And that’s where Asgore’s second perk of the daily voice mails came in, for you see, Asgore always made sure to show up only in places where the human was not.

The Ruins were pretty far away. He doubted any of his citizens would come pestering him about their “human infestation” problem today because of it, so he seized his chance to run some errands in the other regions. He fancied a trip to Waterfall first to restock on snails. His fridge was beginning to run low.

Asgore stopped outside the gate of the snail farm and looked up. There was a new sign there that wasn’t there before. It read “spectacular spectral snails” in bright colors.

“Like it?” Said the farm owner when they noticed Asgore admiring the sign. A ghost with a manifested sunhat and piece of straw in their mouth materialized into view. “A new colorful upgrade to help attract the young ‘uns of today’s consumers. The youth love eye-catching colors! Learned that in a marketing lecture.”

“Howdy Eidolon,” Asgore greeted the specter. “I’m just here for my usual order.”

“Got’cha. Twelve dozen snails, comin’ up! I gotta thank you for always buyin’ in bulk, Asgore. Sometimes I think you’re the only thing keeping my farm aloft.”

“Really? I thought most Waterfall residents love snails.”

“Yeah, but it seems diet fads are on the rise. E’ery one today only seems to talk about plant-based and vegetarianism. Young ‘uns today have no clue what it was like when we first got sealed down here and we had to eat what we could find! They’re gonna grow up spoiled, being so picky!”

Asgore smiled politely. Ah, if only he could give his citizens the choice to be picky. He remembered the plentiful bounty of food on the surface. Humility and humbleness had their places, but when you were thankful only because you had no other choice, was it actual gratitude or just survival? To suffer in order to truly experience thankfulness… It didn’t seem like a fair trade to him in the slightest. Not when the suffering never seemed to end.

Gold exchanged and snails acquired, Asgore turned to head home. He only made it down the end of the street before running into a familiar face.

“Waha! Ol’ king fluffy buns? Do my eyes deceive me? It’s been a spell since I’ve seen you in these parts! What brings you to Waterfall?”

“Howdy, Gerson. Just making my monthly snail pick up, is all.”

“Wahaha, aw shucks. And here I thought you’d actually come just to visit. You used to tour the other regions all the time! What happened, friend?”

“Oh, you know,” Asgore dithered. “I’ve been busy sorting legislature, writing laws, and all that.”

“Really now,” Gerson said slyly, his right eye narrowing more than usual, though the grin never left his face. “’Cause it looks like to me you’re hiding in your castle ever since the human showed up.”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Oh yeah? Then how come you decide to leave New Home only on the days the human goes to the Ruins for a visit? I’m willing to say the first two times were coincidence, but the third time makes a pattern, friend.”

“How do you know the human’s in the Ruins? He could be in Snowdin or Hotland,” Asgore said.

“’Cause the human’s noticed it too, pal!” Gerson laughed at Asgore’s shocked deer-in-the-headlights expression. “He comes by my shop all the time for journals and camera film. In fact, he came by this morning telling me of his plan, and he said so himself “I have to visit the Ruins every so often so Asgore can get out of the house. I think he’s terrified of crossing paths with me if he ever leaves his castle." Come, walk with me.”

Dumbfounded, Asgore silently followed after his old friend. Together, the two monsters meandered side by side, towards Gerson’s shop a few blocks over. There’s a new limp in Gerson’s gait, and it’s with bitter reluctance that Asgore acknowledges his friend is aging- growing old without him. After only a few streets, the turtle monster paused to take a breath, and waved for Asgore to stop. They pulled aside and sat on an old bench for a while.

“Asgore, do you remember the day your son was born?”

Asgore stayed silent, but went stiff at the question.

“Do you remember what you said to me that night? How you realized that escaping would be pointless because, even if we DID get back to the surface, humans would just kill us, or lock us back Underground again with an even stronger barrier? My memory is starting to grow as fuzzy as your tush, but I remember the fear in your eyes as clear as day. I remember how scared you were for Asriel, and the possibility of you exposing him to a world that wouldn’t hesitate to harm him or worse.”

Asgore couldn’t move. He stared into his box of snails, watching them slowly trying to escape as they crawled up the sides.

“Remember when you adopted your second child? And how suddenly humanity seemed like sunshine and rainbows just because those two became fast friends? I never told you this then, but I always felt a little betrayed that you walked back on your first plan to keep monsters safe, and started talking all this nonsense about peace and tolerance from the humans. But now I gotta say I’m getting mixed signals from you, and so are a few other monsters left who remember the war. You said any future humans who come here must die for our cause, but this one is alive and kicking.” Gerson shifted in his seat, adjusting his shell.

“I guess what I’m asking is, just… what _is_ your plan, Asgore? Are you going to try and set monsters free? Or are you going to try and keep us safe from the human menace? Because so far it looks like you’re doing neither.”

“I will… do everything I can to give my people freedom. If I run into the human, then I will deal with them.”

“Yeah, sure I believe you,” Gerson said sarcastically. “But the thing is you never will run into him. It’s clear to any monster with eyes you avoid them like a repelling magnet.”

“Well, has the human caused any trouble?”

Gerson shrugged. “Nothin’ outside of normal childish antics. To be honest, I ain’t bothered by him. It’s all the other vets who are getting antsy, but none of them are brave enough to talk to you about it.”

“Why?” Asgore asked, honestly taken aback. “I’m free to listen to anyone at any time.”

“I know that, but most of your subjects don’t. You might not be aware of it, but you’ve drifted apart from us common folk over these last hundred years. No one blames you, you know. The loss of a child isn’t something one gets over easily, if at all. You’ve just become the intimidating monarch who never leaves his throne over these past decades.”

Asgore stared into the middle distance, suddenly much more alert. A king his citizens were scared to confide in? No, that wouldn’t do at all. He had to remedy this immediately.

“Thanks for the advice, Gerson,” Asgore said, lending his friend an arm. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Waha! Thanks for cachin’ up with me fluffy buns! I hope you get over this silly phobia of yours and visit more often!”

Asgore finished walking Gerson back to his shop, and there they parted ways.

He made it back to New Home without much trouble.

* * *

_Dear diary (and mystery human friends)_

_Big news today! It turns out that all the letters I’ve been sending Toriel actually got delivered to her, and she read every one! I know this because when I went to send her one today, she opened the door! She said she wanted to see me again because she missed me, and was very impressed (and maybe relieved?) that I had convinced Asgore not to fight me._

_Man, I didn’t know how much I missed the Ruins until I came back. Maybe I’ll set up a doctor’s office in Home once I become a doctor for real (because, don’t forget, I’m totally going to be one when I’m all grown up!) The folk there are rather secluded. I asked Toriel about this, and she thought it was a wonderful Idea._

_Toriel was so happy when I told her I want to help people for a living. I think this means the Ruins will stay open again. I’m so happy I could convince her not to cut herself off from the rest of the underground anymore. I’m not a doctor (yet) but that kind of isolation from other people can’t be good for your mental and emotional health. Now if only I could get Asgore to open up as well. I don’t think Toriel will ever forgive Asgore for promising to kill humans, but I hope they can at least be friends again. (I’ve learned not to talk too much about Asgore around Toriel. She always gets this mad look on her face when I bring him up. I asked her why and she said she can no longer love someone who makes rash decisions out of pain, and refuses to be with someone who responds with anger instead of forgiveness. I’ll try not to write about him too much in my letters anymore)._

_Anyway, enough sad talk! I’m starting high school next year! And with any luck, I’ll graduate with straight ‘A’s and get a scholarship to New Home University!! But that’s gonna be years down the line._

_Oh! And guess what I bought from Gerson today? A camera! One of the ones that print the photo as soon as you take it! I think they’re called polaroids? He found it in the dump and I’m just surprised it still works! Anyhow, taped to this page is a picture of me! That’s what I look like! As excited as I am to take more, film is pretty scarce down here. I don’t want to use up all the pictures just in case we never find more. I want you to be able to take pictures, too!_

_I’m so happy the pictures come out in color. I think there are a few other monsters in the underground with cameras, but they must be rare, because all their pictures are so old and in black and white, or are super faded. If I remember right, there’s a family picture in the king’s kids’ bedroom with what I think is another human. I can’t tell, they’re hiding their face in a bouquet of flowers._

_I think I’ll save the camera only for special occasions. Like today! It’s my birthday! I’m thirteen now! Haha, funny to think there was a time when I didn’t believe I’d ever become a teenager. Maybe I’ll just take one photo every year, to compare how much I’ve grown! I wish I could see pictures of you. Anyway, I’ll write to you later._

_Love you, bye!  
~Ribbons~_

* * *

Time passed. Days blended in to weeks, weeks into months, and months into years.

The human began to write him letters.

It started with a couple of holiday cards, sent once or twice a year, then a friendly greeting letter each month, then a letter nearly every week to replace his daily phone calls. Each envelope was signed with a drawing of a red bowtie instead of a name. Asgore learned to recognize them quickly, separating them from his regular mail, but not quite having the heart to throw them away outright. Instead he sorted them into an old shoebox, fully intending to get around to reading them one day, but never quite finding the time.

Why the human bothered sending so much mail at all, Asgore couldn’t fathom. There was no reason or need, and he never felt inclined to reply.

It seemed there was an unspoken agreement that there was no need for the human to call him about his whereabouts anymore. For 75% of any given day of the year, he was probably in a classroom at school. Asgore couldn’t remember what grade the ribbon child was in now. He had lost track years ago. Probably junior high, he reasoned. As long as they never crossed paths, he wasn’t too concerned.

So it was quite a shock for him to run into the human face to face for the graduating university class of 212X.

It was tradition for the king to hand out diplomas for the university. Asgore had done it for more generations than he could count, shaking hands with colleagues as they crossed the stage, and then their children years later, and then even their children’s children further down the line, and so on.

Back after the university was first founded, Asgore had looked into the eyes of each monster with hope and joy, proud of what his citizens were achieving. But ever since he had stopped aging, the ceremony had become more tedious, more routine.

Asgore’s smiles became a little less warm, his handshakes a little less enthusiastic. What was the point of meeting and trying to remember so many monsters when he knew he would eventually outlive them all? After a century of it all, Asgore was just going through the motions at that point.

Until the human stood before him.

Asgore froze, almost not recognizing the ribbon child. He had gotten so tall, nearly to the height of his beard, and wore the black cap and gown of all the other graduates. His pale blue eyes sparkled with anticipation, his hand stuck out, waiting for the king to shake it.

But Asgore couldn’t move.

Why was the human here? Had that much time really already passed? Asgore suddenly remembered all the promises he made about “dealing” with the human if he ever ran into him. He certainly hoped no one in the crowds expected to him to deal with him right here on the stage. Oh, why couldn’t the human have just stayed out of his way so they never had to acknowledge one another?

The human cleared his throat, but Asgore still made no motion to shake the human’s hand.

The human’s smile faltered, and his eyes went downcast. Looking away in embarrassment, he took the diploma from the assistant beside the king and hurried off the stage. Quiet murmurings erupted from the crowd.

Asgore blinked, more alert than before, and grateful that he had fur to hide his own flushing face.

He paid extra attention for the rest of the ceremony, but still the feeling of guilt did not leave him.

* * *

_Dear diary and friends._

_Today’s entry isn’t a very happy one, so feel free to skip it if you don’t feel like reading angry thoughts._

_I’m just! So! MAD! At Asgore! AAAHHH!!!! He can be so impossible sometimes. And of all days to treat me like I don’t exist! Okay, for some context, I graduated today (yay!) I’m officially a doctor now! Dr. Ribbons! Anyway, Asgore is always at college graduation ceremonies. He hands out the diplomas and shakes the students’ hands (if they have them)._

_Well, when it came to me, he just stared at me like I grew a second head! (Which was rather rude, because there are plenty of monsters down here with two or more heads, so you think he’d know better than to stare at anyone). He wouldn’t even hand me my diploma! I waited for him to take my hand, but I couldn’t stand there forever! I was holding up the line. So I had to take it from the assistant who was passing the certificates to him. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life! Sigh… well, it’s over now and I just have to let it go. You can’t change the past. Well… I mean, I guess I could, but it probably wouldn’t do any good. Man, I haven’t gone back in so long… I should make sure that I can’t. I don’t want to be tempted. That power (and hopefully yours too) shouldn’t be abused. I try to be responsible and I “save” every day just to make sure I’ll never get sent back just in case an accident happens, but I still know. I still feel it- I could undo it all if I really wanted it hard enough. It scares me sometimes, that feeling. I don’t know if there is truly a good way to use this power, but I do know it can be used for bad purposes, and I never want to be tempted into becoming that person. I’m an actual real doctor now! I worked six years for this! I want to be good and I want to help people, and even though the future and the unknown can be scary, it sounds much more exciting- never knowing what comes next? Instead of reliving the same past? Maybe that’s Asgore’s problem. Maybe he’s stuck in the past and hasn’t figured out how to move forward yet. I don’t think I’ll ever know…_

_Anyway, sorry I haven’t written any entries lately. This last semester has been tough on me, but that’s all over now! I may not be writing entries as frequently as I’m going to start working full time soon. I’m going to open a clinic in the Ruins for the monsters who can’t travel to new home for whatever reason. Might as well start cutting back since this diary is almost full anyway._

_You know, looking back on it all, it was nice… getting to grow up. I hope you get to have a good childhood too._

_Love you,  
~Dr. Ribbons.~_

* * *

The news that the ribbon child had moved into the Ruins came to Asgore second hand, and several years after the fact.

“So we shall have the conference next Tuesday, then?” Asgore asked one of his delegates. Ready or not, it was time to start construction of bridges in Waterfall to improve the ease of access for the larger monsters who couldn’t fit through the narrow tunnels as easily as the smaller ones.

“Ah, next Tuesday is no good for me, sir, my apologies.” A salamander-like monster said. “I have to go to the Ruins for a doctor’s appointment. Wednesday will work just as well for me, if you are willing.”

“Of course, of course. I am happy to accommodate you.”

“Many thanks, my king,” the salamander bowered. “Sigh. I do wish Dr. Ribbons’ office wasn’t so far out of the way. But my amphibious friends in the Ruins tell me he’s a life saver for the older folk who wouldn’t be able to make a trip through Snowdin or Hotland.”

Asgore stumbled in his step, nearly tripping over the salamander.

“Good gracious! Are you alright, my king?”

“Y-yes, I am alright. My foot must’ve caught on the cobblestone, is all.”

“Um… your floors are marble?” The salamander pointed out, sweeping his arm across the hall. Asgore ignored him.

“Anyway! Construction budgets. Next Wednesday. Good for you? Good. I look forward to seeing you again.”

And with that, Asgore ushered him out of the castle.

The ribbon child was in the Ruins now? No wonder he hadn’t heard word about him in so long. The cell reception did not transmit well from that far. Had the child still tried to call him every day? Not like it would have mattered. Even months before the radio silence, Asgore had been ignoring most of the phone calls from his number. Out of sight, out of mind.

He hoped it would stay that way.

* * *

_Dear diary and future friends._

_I think this will be my last entry, and not just because it is one of the last pages. Sorry I haven’t written in a while. Life sort of got in the way and I lost track of time. I know this may be a bit morbid, but I think I will be dying soon._

_Not that I think someone’s out to get me or anything, no! It’s just… ha, well, can you believe I’m over 100 now? Yep! I’m a centennial millennial! It really has been a long time since I wrote, huh? I’ve been retired for a couple decades now, though I still help some patients with minor things, like prescriptions for medicine._

_Anyway, since this is probably my last entry, I just wanted to say my goodbyes. I’ve already sent so many letters to Toriel and all my friends. I still have to send one to Asgore, but I don’t know what exactly I’m going to say in it yet. Not that it matters much. I don’t think he’ll read it. Other than him, the only one I have left to say goodbye to is… you._

_Thank you so much for reading my diaries. Thanks for listening to me through all my lows and highs. I am sorry that I never got to meet you. I waited as long as I could! Ha ha! But in the end, time won. I don’t know what the future will hold for you when you come here, but if I may make a request, please, be kind to the monsters. I know it may be scary down here, but you’re not alone. I was patient for so long, but it also made me inactive. Maybe I could have helped them more if I had been more proactive. It’s too late for me to start now, but maybe not for you. Are you brave enough to try what I did not?_

_Ha ha, I need to finish this entry soon, or I fear my tears will stain the page. Is it rude of me to say that I am so happy for you to have fallen here as well? I’m sorry if it comes off that way! I know, it sounds disturbing for a grown adult to say they’re proud of a kid jumping into a giant pit at the top of a mountain. It’s just that when I climbed the mountain…_

_Well, I expected that to be the end for me. And if the legends still hold, maybe you thought the same on your hike up. I didn’t expect a second chance. I didn’t expect to grow up, or find a family and a home. I am more grateful than these monsters will ever know, and I am so, so excited for you and the life I know you will have full of love and acceptance._

_Welp. It’s finally time for me to challenge Asgore._

_I love you.  
~Dr. Ribbons~_

* * *

Years passed, and as time ticked on, Asgore thought about the human less and less. All the citizens seemed to understand there was some sort of truce between them, though they did not seem to grasp the details.

The human’s name came up in conversation every now and again, and each time it hit Asgore with a sense of surprise. The human was, still, in fact, alive and well in the Underground. How shocking it was to learn that your problems don’t ever truly disappear if you ignore them long enough, but still Asgore was determined to try.

Maybe, in fact, a little too determined. When your race can basically be immortal based on the fact if you have offspring, it’s not unusual to discover bachelor monsters who were a couple centuries if not millennia, old. And time, for anyone who could live that long, sure had a quick way of becoming irrelevant. Soon days and decades started to become one in the same, and it could feel like whole centuries could pass in the blink of an eye, and it made the lives of everyone around you feel so fleeting as a result.

So when one day Asgore entered his garden as per routine, only to find a very old human with a walking cane and faded red ribbon tied around his neck sitting in a patch of sunshine, he was rightfully a little stunned.

“Hello, Mr. King Dreemurr, sir,” the human said, formal as ever, though now his voice creaked and lilted from age. “Long time, no see.”

The boy- no, now an old man, had changed drastically since Asgore had last seen him in his prime. His back now hunched, his hair- once a pretty straw blonde, was now grey and thin, and mostly absent from the top of his head.

“To what… Do I owe the pleasure?” He asked.

“Let’s not beat around the bush, Asgore,” The ribbon human said with a serene grin on his face. “I’ve finally finished everything I wanted to do. I’m ready to fight you now.”

Asgore stood paralyzed, utter shock bolting him to the floor. He stared, unblinking in pure disbelief, waiting for the old man to say ‘psyche!’ at any moment, but the human simply continued to smile.

“I… do not think that would be a wise decision,” Asgore stuttered. Fight him? Fighting a frail, elderly being who could barely walk? How would that be fair? How could that be seen as anything other than inhumane and cruel?

“What’s wrong, old man? Afraid you’ll lose? Ha ha.”

Old? The decrepit being in front of him looked like he’d fall over if someone blew on him a little too hard.

Asgore could not believe it, didn’t want to believe it, but it had finally happened. The challenge he had anxiously waited for had finally been issued. One he dreaded for years, one he braced for for months, one he secretly prayed would never come.

It was then that Asgore realized how far into insouciance he had fallen. While he had never particularly liked the thought of a human living in the Underground after all the grand promises he made, he had… gotten comfortable with it. The offhand comments he heard about him, snippets of his achievements through passing conversations from his patients, it shocked him to realize how much he gotten use to the idea, the nugget of knowledge that a human was living humbly in the Ruins, out of his way, out of his sight, out of his thoughts.

It had been an uneasy and unspoken truce between them for years. And now the human wanted to throw that way.

But… but it was up to Asgore to go through with it, wasn’t it? The human had challenged him, but after all these years, did he have to still accept?

“I…” Asgore stuttered, unable to form or even think words. Fight him? This old man who could barely stand? Asgore pictured it in his mind, how the battle would go, how the human would never be able to dodge fast enough, how he’d never able to attack hard enough to ever do damage. He could lie to himself all day, and say that a child who was quick and nimble at least had a chance if they tried to fight him, but to fight this frail old man would be no better than punching down on one who had already fallen. No leaps of logic or twists in reasoning could ever convince him it would be fair.

“I…” He can’t help but notice how the human rubs his knees, clearly pained by old joints, and cannot help but think of his friend Gerson who is also headed down that same path. He remembers the conversation he had with Gerson about promises and examples.

“I…” He remembers all the little moments of surprise he felt when monsters mentioned the human in passing. All the people he’s helped, cured, _saved_. How could he ever look those monsters in the eye again if they were to learn he’s taken their friend’s life?

“I…” He thinks of the little boy he so desperately tried to ignore and avoid because he didn’t want to get attached. He remembers the child who made him a sandwich and brought him juice, who kept him company when he tried to deny his existence, who wore his children’s clothes and cared for his flowers unprompted because Asgore had neglected them.

“I… am sorry,” Asgore said at long last, barely louder than a whisper. “But I cannot accept your challenge. It simply would not be right. Please forgive my cowardice.”

The human’s eyebrows rose, and a warm smile spread across his lips.

“I was hoping you would say that,” he said. Struggling to his feet, the human stood and looked the king in the eye. “Asgore, I know it’s been quite some time since you have been sealed underground, it makes me curious- do you know what an organ donor is?”

“I… am afraid I have never heard such a term. Pardon my ignorance.”

“They were still relatively new when I first fell. Only been in practice about sixty or seventy years. Well, I’m sure you know by now that human bodies have a stubborn habit of sticking around, even after they kick the bucket. Humans noticed this too. Our medicine on the surface has improved in leaps and bounds, and we’ve found ways to save bits and pieces of the recently deceased and give them to the living who could still use them. Livers, hearts, family members sparing a kidney, complete strangers sharing their bone marrow and blood. It truly is a testament to humanity’s empathy. I know you have no use for human cadavers, but I would like to be a donor too. In a different way.

“Asgore, I’ve already discussed this with Toriel and a few other close friends. I’ve even written it in my will. As my last act as a doctor and friend, I wish to consensually donate my soul to you upon my death.”

* * *

Despite being offered hospice, the human chose to die in his own home. He passed peacefully in his sleep with his closest friends by his side. They presented Asgore with the soul later the next morning, shining a bright light blue, as pale as his eyes had been.

The day after the human’s death, the funeral was held. A spectacle it was, the sheer number of monsters who came to say their farewells. Both the young and the old seemed mystified at the lifeless body in the casket that looked so peaceful, like he could just be sleeping and awaken any moment. It seemed so odd that the vessel remained but the mind would never return. When monsters died, they disintegrated into dust. One had no choice but to accept the loss. But for humans… for humans the body was still _here_ It was hard to comprehend the idea of the consciousness never returning. The younger monsters who grew up believing stories that humans were some sort of mythical super-being were stunned that he even _could_ die. Even some of the oldest monsters shed a tear, while some merely harrumphed and muttered “about time” under their breath.

Asgore stood silent and statuesque as the mourners passed. Unsure how human funerals worked, many brought flowers and cards and candies and trinkets to leave beside the coffin in an ever-growing pile- proof at how much the human had been respected and loved. Some cried. Most were just sad but accepting. This was the way of things. No one, not even the invincible human legend, lived forever.

Asgore stayed silent as his citizens passed, staring blankly into the middle distance until from across the sea of mourners, one figure caught his eye. There, towards the back, was Toriel. After all this time… after all these years, she had come back. And, just like him, she had not aged a day.

She stood at the opposite end of the room, grieving from afar in order to let others get closer to the casket.

For a brief moment their eyes lock when she feels his stare and looks up. Her eyes are red, but no tears stain her cheeks. For a split second she narrowed her eyes at him, before thinking better of it and let her anger go. A funeral was no place for old grudges.

Of all the monsters who come and visit, Toriel is the only one who stands vigil as long as he does. She even remains when the final monster leaves and the time comes at last to close the casket. To his surprise, she joins him at his side.

“Howdy… Toriel,” Asgore says awkwardly, not knowing what else to do.

“Dreemurr,” her response is clipped and cold. “How gracious of you to pay your respects at the passing of one of your citizens. I am humbled by such a passionate display of grief.”

Her sarcasm is not lost on him. A bitter feeing reminiscent of the nights they spent fighting before they split bubbles up in him. It’s an effort to fight it back, but this is neither the time nor place to rekindle old rows.

“The monsters… need a solid foundation, a rock, to cling to when their spirits are on turbulent waters. I am that rock. I cannot cry in front of them or they will lose faith in me.”

“Or perhaps you do not cry because you do not care,” Toriel argued. “You spent the last century pretending this human didn’t exist as a loophole to your promise. Why drop the charade now, even when it no longer holds purpose.”

Frustration swelled in his chest. He can’t help it. Despite his better judgement, he snaps back. “Your cheeks are as dry as mine and the only red in your eyes are your irises. What moral high ground do you claim to have when you yourself have not shed a single tear?”

“I have finished all my crying weeks ago,” Toriel huffed. She places a hand on the casket, and a bit of the tension leaves her face. “But I did not grieve because of despair. Just in the unfairness that it was time to part ways. He lived a full life, filled with love and happiness, and I have no regrets. Can you say the same?”

I can say we are one step closer to freedom, Asgore thought. For more than one reason he feels that this isn’t an appropriate response and thus stays quiet.

“I am… grateful… that you did not follow through on your initial promise,” Toriel says at length. Her voice is soft, gentle, and it surprises him. He turns to her. “But do not think the mere sparing of one life is enough to make me forgive you.” Ah, there’s the venom he was familiar with. “I can no longer love anyone who declares violence on innocents, no matter the amount of suffering they themselves have gone through. If this boy had fallen any sooner, would you have shown as much pity? My instincts tell me you would not have.”

“I… was a grief-blind fool,” Asgore confessed.

“I’m glad we agree,” Toriel responded, not taking the bait. “So. When will you go to the surface?”

“What?”

“You brain-dead— You have a human’s soul now, Asgore! You can cross the barrier and collect six more to free our people!”

“I am…” Asgore struggled to find the right words. Was it nervous? Afraid? A coward? All were fitting. “Unsure… if humans would believe I come in peace. If they still managed to kill our son when he had the power to defeat them all, I can only imagine how much stronger their technology has become since then. I would much rather have them come to me one at a time rather than facing them all at once.” (and on my own) he thought.

“You pathetic whelp,” Toriel seethed. He didn’t contradict her. “You would seriously sentence countless generations to suffer and die beneath this mountain, even after a human has _gifted_ you their soul?”

“I would rather not start a second war,” he said meekly, not even convincing himself.

“Unfortunately, you insured that the day you declared revenge,” Toriel reminded, twisting the knife of guilt deeper into his soul. “Tell me, Asgore. What did you know about this child?”

“He is… was… a doctor,” Asgore supplied.

“True. But did you know his hopes? His fears? His _name?_ ” Toriel grilled. “He wrote letters to you _constantly._ More than any of his friends, though I cannot fathom why. Despite your cold shoulder, he still looked up to you, and not once did you meet him half way. I think above all else, he wanted to befriend you. Even when he lay dying, he wanted to appease you. Do not let that death go in vain.”

With that, Toriel turned and took her leave. Asgore stayed, staring at the sealed coffin for several more minutes, before he too, finally retired.

As per the human’s final request, he asked not to be buried in the Underground. Instead he wished for his body to be preserved and taken to the surface along with the monsters once they were free, and laid to rest beneath the open sky.

After the coffin had been placed in the basement and enchanted with magic to keep the body safe from decaying, Asgore made the slow ascent up the stairs to his house. He paused briefly to gaze into his children’s room as he had did every evening for the past two-hundred years, before returning to his own. Once inside he shed his robes and removed his crown. He turned toward his desk, littered with paperwork and inquiries. Beside his wastebasket sat an old shoebox filled to the brim with letters and greeting cards, all signed with a drawing of a bowtie, colored red. All were unopened. He studied them a moment, dithering, before deciding that it was too late in the day to start reading them now. He promised himself to read them another time. They would still be there tomorrow. There was always a tomorrow for everything.

With a sigh, Asgore gathered the box and closed the lid. He tucked it away in his spare room, and retired for the evening.


End file.
